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『Pure Morning』

Ivan Carmichael opened his eyes, seeing his wife laying beside him. A small smile dotted across his lips before he sat up. In a long white nightgown, he slipped from his feathered mattress of a bed and stood onto the carpet.

His eyes hazily gazed over the room as they adjusted to the light.

For the first time in a long time, he felt free and empowered. much like he had felt in his youth.

The world around him was seemingly so vibrant.

"My Lord!... Good Morning~" One of the young servants dressed in ragged apparel entered the room, starting out loud, only to whisper in the end seeing that the Lady of the Lord was still sleeping.

"Morning Sven," The Lord said as he walked over towards his morning coat and tucked it over his gown, only to pause for a moment. "Isn't it Oresday?"

"Y-yes My Lord, why do you ask?" Sven was a young man with dirty blonde cut down to an inch in length, dark blue eyes and thin brows which he was now furrowing at his lord.

"Isn't Helena supposed to be serving me this morning?" He asked as he raised a brow at the young man, wondering why a different servant was in his room this morning.

"Ah.. Helena is sick this day, My Lord. I am covering in for her."

Raising his head a pitch, the old man would nod to the younger servant who seemed to be in a somewhat panicky state when he had asked the question. "You're lucky I am in a good mood this morning... Have you seen my daughter yet?"

"No my Lord, she has yet to leave her tower."

"I see..." He squinted his eyes slightly at Sven for a moment before walking over to the drawer and pulling out a pair of tights. "Help me with these would you, boy?"

"Yes sir..." The young man said with a muted tone, of course, not to wake the woman in the bed. He made his way over to his lord and helped him with his pants.

Once Ivan's pants were firmly pulled into place, the man removed his coat and gown, before pulling the coat back over himself and handing the boy his gown.

Nodding as he took the laundry from the room, Sven would walk out of the room, quickly disappearing down the hall towards the servants quarters where he was to wash the clothes.

Dressed in his tights and his coat which he belted closed over his torso, the man would then pull on a pair of stale leather boots over his bare feet. Clapping the wooden soles on the floor of the bedroom, he nodded to himself reassuringly before making his way out of the master chambers.

When he made it to the corridor overlooking the outside of the Palace, his gaze narrowed on the sun which had since risen from the West. It was clear he was late to wake, and he let out a sigh.

It was almost noon.

With great stride, her made his way towards the door leading out to the tower belonging to his daughter onto to pause seeing the latch. It had been locked? He stared at the door before unlatching it and opening it, gazing across the narrow bridge to the tower.

He didn't see any evidence of someone trying to get in from the other side, and raised a brow.

"My daughter couldn't have locked the door from the outside," Scratching at his chiseled beard, the man strode on over to the other end and pressed his hand against his daughter's door.

Once he was inside the first door, he slipped his leather boots off and rested them by the door. A grin form over his lips as he rolled his toes on the cold tiled floor before turning his gaze to the partially open door leading into her chambers.